String Theory
by jskurious
Summary: When Brittany gets an invited to a special black tie dinner at MIT, she finds the perfect excuse to finally get Santana to visit her in Boston. She needs the perfect date, right? One shot.


_This is (sort of) based on the same universe as Somewhere Between All and Nothing, which really just means it's kinda sorta almost canon. If you squint._

_It's really based on a smut prompt from my friend Mistiec, to make up for the fact that Somewhere was sadly lacking in sexy times, so here it is. Next on the agenda is finishing No Excuses, wish me luck. I feel like my muse is returning... ;)_

_Also, despite everything I unabashedly love the idea of quirky genius Brittany and this let me have fun with that. _

_Hope you like it._

* * *

The invitation called it a "Black Tie Dinner". And while Brittany didn't know much about recipes, she was fairly sure it would take a really long time to make a tie taste good and even then it would be all stringy.

And not in the cool alternate universe way.

Plus, it seemed like a really strange thing to be serving at a party to celebrate some billionaire "wannabe intellectual", as Dr. Hauptman liked to call him, who was giving the Math Department a whole lot of money to build something and put his name on it, "so he can pretend that he belongs here."

They were all a little snobby like that. In some ways this place was like high school turned inside out, where the nerds were the cool ones who ruled the school and everyone else wanted to be like them.

They had accepted Brittany as one of them because of her numbers, and had a habit of hanging on every little random thing she said or theory she had like it held the secret to the great mystery of life. It had been annoying for a while, until she realized how much fun it was to mess with them. They even started an entirely new case study after she suggested that watching a lot of porn could actually raise a person's IQ.

It had proven to be incredibly popular, though the results were still pretty inconclusive, there was no shortage of volunteers.

But Brittany was still trying to find her place at MIT. Strangely enough, the harder, more advanced the classes she tried were, the easier they seemed to be for her to understand. String theory had turned out to have nothing to do with arts and crafts, but when she built a model of her own ideas about string theory using a ball of yarn, two apples and a dustbuster, Brittany got the very first A she had ever received in her whole life. She had gone back to the professor to see if he had gotten his letters confused (since she totally did that sometimes), but he hadn't. He told her she had "the most intuitive and thought provoking ideas" that he had ever come across. She wrote it down in her notebook so she could make sure the words meant what she thought they meant, then double check with Santana to be sure.

She wandered back to her small apartment in a daze, only half-listening to Jasmine and Toby in their never-ending argument about temporal mechanics. Jasmine was more into the HG Wells school of time travel, though apparently that also had something to do with a hot chick on a cable show, while Toby kept talking about a guy named Walter Bishop and all Brittany had really gotten from that was that there was a hot girl on his TV show, too. Jasmine was dressed like a Flapper today, or that's what she called it, even though it was just a funny looking dress with no wings. They didn't really understand why she was so excited about her grade, probably because they had never seen her as dumb Brittany.

All the people here looked at her when she talked about stuff like Santana used to, when she was the only one who would listen to Brittany's theories, no matter how random they were. She wished Santana could be here with her to see her A. She would take her out to dinner and make jokes about Pretty Little Liars and she would never once question that her grade was real or that she had earned it.

That night, Brittany had texted Santana, asking if she could Skype. She didn't have much time, but Brittany called her anyway, because she wanted to see Santana's face when she saw the grade. And it had been worth it, the way she beamed made Brittany feel all warm and sparkly inside.

She showed Santana the invitation she had received, too, which was not nearly as cool as the A had been.

"You don't eat the ties, Britt, you wear them. Or, like, the guys do. It's a dress code thing."

"Like, Prom for nerds?"

Brittany was glad again that they were Skyping instead of just talking, because she could see her head thrown back and her hair bounce when Santana started laughing.

"Yeah, exactly like that," she agreed with a huge smile while she bustled around her little corner of the loft taking clothes out of the bag she took to dance class and throwing them in Rachel's clothes hamper, since Kurt had wised up and put a padlock on his. "It just means dress really fancy."

"Ok." Brittany pouted a little bit.

"What's wrong, Britt? You love getting all glammed up."

"But that's to, like, dance and party. This will totally be like the Land Sharks versus the Jets all over again, with the rich people on one side of the room and the professors on the other secretly planning a rumble."

Santana laughed again, even though Brittany couldn't see her this time since she had wandered into the kitchen, but the sound made her smile anyway.

"Well, you should call up Sugar and take her with you. She would totally fit in with the Land Sharks and you would have someone there to talk to." Brittany's eyes got a little wide when she saw Santana walk by the screen pulling a sparkly shirt over her head, her lacy bra, and more importantly her abs, on unintentional display. It was hard not to notice that she had been dancing a lot, though she frowned, trying to remember if Santana's job tonight was dancing on a bar or in a cage.

"Sugar is out of the country again, she said something about taking some luggage down to the Cayman Islands for her Dad."

"Oh well, that sucks, sorry Britt." Santana's voice was a little strained and it wasn't until she wandered back onto the screen that Brittany could see she was pulling up a pair of insanely tight black leather pants. Which meant she had a shift tonight behind a bar and not behind a cage. Brittany tried to figure out whether that should make her feel any better. It kind of didn't.

"You should totally come up and go with me." Brittany offered hopefully. "You would finally get a chance to see my apartment and I could give you a tour of the school." She squirmed just a little bit, hoping Santana was too distracted to see it, wondering why she never went to Louisville to see Santana's new life there. Maybe she just wanted to pretend it didn't exist.

Her shoulders sank at the way Santana hesitated, "You know I'm always either working or in class, Britt. And this guy at the bar the other night asked me if I maybe wanted to sing with his band a couple of times a month."

Brittany's face fell even further at the thought of Santana with yet another job, something else to take up all her time and leave her too exhausted even to talk most nights. She had fallen asleep on the phone the last couple of times.

"I have told Santana, she's going to suffer a burnout if she keeps going like this, but she refuses to listen." Rachel's high-pitched voice invaded their call when she walked into the screen, handing Santana a pair of cowboy boots in one hand and a sandwich in the other. Brittany's eyes narrowed a little as she watched Santana roll her eyes, but take a bite of the sandwich while she went about hopping herself awkwardly into her boots.

She waited until Rachel walked away before leaning closer her screen and whispering, "Why is Rachel thinking about how hot you are?"

Santana paused, blinked, then started chuckling as she chewed. "She's just being annoying," she said the word loudly leaning backwards, clearly intending it more for Rachel than for her, "and saying that I'm working too much and it's not good for me."

As much as Brittany hated the idea of agreeing with Rachel Berry, she couldn't help herself this time, "Well, see she's right. Maybe what you need is a weekend away." She said it loudly this time, figuring if Rachel was going to eavesdrop on them, she might as well work it to her advantage. "Just relax, unwind, go to a nice party..."

Santana looked up with the sandwich clamped between her teeth as she used both hands to wiggle her foot into the second boot, but stopped for a moment to take it out so she could add, "And to the rumble later, too? How could I ever say no to an offer like that?" She smirked and took a big bite, stomping her foot a few times before she was satisfied with the fit of her boot.

"Well, don't say no, then," she urged, breaking out the full on pout and hoping it would still have at least a little bit of the same effect it used to. "Come on. I have to go because they used my numbers to help convince the guy to give them all the money. You're not going to make me do that alone, are you?" More pouting, Santana had stopped and was looking at her uncertainly. "You could totally just be like my arm candy or something. You don't even have to talk to them if you don't want to. And that way you can help me make sure that gross Physics professor won't try to hit on me or something."

She said it innocently, in truth the guy hadn't done anything but try to stare down her shirt the day she made the mistake of wearing a tank top to class, but stretching the truth a little would be worth it if it got her what she wanted. And since Santana was now frowning at the screen, Brittany hoped it might be working.

"Well, you know, speaking of professors Santana, that's the weekend I have that date with Ethan. And he might be coming back to the loft if it goes well." Rachel peeked her head into the frame again and gave Brittany an exaggerated wink. "Especially since Kurt is going to visit Burt for the weekend."

Santana grimaced, looking more than a little bit horrified, "Ethan? You're seriously going on a date with Mr. Mid-Life Crisis?"

"I told you I was going to try dating older men for a change." Rachel had her hands on her hips.

"The guy has a rat-tail, Rachel. Like, seriously, it's a foot long. You bring him in here and he might attract half the vermin in the city, because they think it is part of some rat-specific mating ritual or something!"

"It's a fashion statement, Santana," Rachel scoffed. "And besides, you were the one who felt the need to insult my last boyfriend for being hairless, I'm fairly certain..."

Santana made a retching sound, shoved a hand in Rachel's face to cut her off and turned back toward the screen.

"Okay, one... I'm in." Brittany grinned and bounced a few times on her bed in excitement. "And two," she turned back toward Rachel, "you are totally having this place fumigated before I get back." She leaned in, with her finger now in Rachel's face, which now seemed to barely phase her new roommate, who merely rolled her eyes.

"The only infestations we ever get are when you drag disintegrating pieces of furniture up from the streets, Santana."

Santana opened her mouth to respond, but glanced down at her watch, "Oh shit, I'm already late! And if I see a rat in here, I'm just gonna assume he goes in your bed. Just sayin." Santana turned to blow a kiss at the screen as she headed for the door, "Bye Britt!"

Brittany's hand twitched like she wanted to reach up and grab it out of thin air.

Rachel turned and gave Brittany a thumbs up before waving and moving closer to close the laptop. Brittany sat and watched the screen with a bemused smile for a few minutes before a knock on her door brought her back to reality.

Knowing Santana was coming made the next week and a half an almost torturous wait. Especially since Santana was picking up extra shifts to make up for the days she would be gone and had even less time to chat than usual. Brittany told Santana not to worry about what she would wear to the party, since she was asking she would take care of all their party plans.

Rachel had even been doing her best to help. She offered to pack Santana's bag for her and everything, since she was already doing most of her laundry. It made Brittany a little bit suspicious, but if it got Santana on the train for Boston on time, she wasn't going to complain.

As it turned out, it barely did. She got a few texts from Santana about running late and subway blackouts and Brittany had already started considering if she could pull off a Diva fit and make them send a helicopter for Santana if she refused to go to the party without her.

She had spent most of the week so excited for Santana's visit she couldn't talk about much else. She was even reasonably sure she and Santana's old sex tape had found its way into a lot of the current porn 'homework' sessions. Fifteen different people had offered to drive her to the train station to pick up Santana, and another seven (all girls, including two professors) had offered to go get her by themselves if Brittany was too busy.

When Santana appeared off the train, she looked tired, but happy. And also a little sweaty, since she hadn't even had time to shower and change after her last dance class before Rachel practically dragged her to the train station. Brittany was still a little suspicious about that. Either Rachel was really into the rat guy or she had some reason for wanting Santana in Boston, but whatever it was, it got her not only Santana here and in person, but also a big hug when she smelled all raw and amazing. Like she did back when Brittany would pretend that her shower was broken so that they could just skip to the cuddles. It was awesome.

Santana let herself be pulled along by her hand while Brittany shouldered her bag and headed for Jasmine's car, which Brittany had borrowed partly because she was practically the only person who hadn't fallen all over themselves to try and help her get Santana from the station.

"I hope it's going to be alright if we're a little bit fashionably late to the party, Britt. I would do just about anything for a shower right about now." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat while Brittany watched her out of the corner of her eye.

"Anything?" She asked, not quite innocently.

Santana's eyes cut toward her, picking up on the flirting instantly. Brittany held her breath for a moment, still not really sure how she was going to respond. While they were still technically in best friend kind of territory, it was also true that she and Santana had never really been able to keep the flirtation out of their friendship. She made it a point to touch Santana as much as she could. Brushing her hand over her shoulder as she pointed out a landmark or patting her knee to get her attention and then giving it a little squeeze, just because it was there and it was squeezable. Santana squirmed in her seat a little bit, and Brittany grinned.

"Well, let's say I'd do something small with an option on 'anything' for later." A little thrill shot through Brittany's chest. While it wasn't full on flirting, Santana was showing at least a willingness to lean in that general direction.

"Options are cool." Brittany offered with a smile, "Did you know that there is this whole String Theory thing that is about how there might be other universes just like ours that exist where it's, like, us. But us that did different things and made different choices, and so all the things we should have done or wished we didn't do, over there maybe there's a version of us that did them and like, wish they had done things the way we did."

Santana chuckled, "I think that may be too deep for me, Egghead."

"No, but can't you imagine it, though? Like if you could somehow talk to another version of you that did everything differently and then you would know what you know, but you could also know what they know, too. So then it would be like where you didn't have to wonder what would have happened if you did something differently. You could just dial up the other you and then you would know."

Brittany fidgeted a little bit as Santana looked at her, not even completely sure where her rambling was coming from. Suddenly Santana started laughing.

"Oh God, Britt. What am I doing going to a party where I'm not going to understand what anyone is talking about?"

Brittany rolled her eyes, thinking that described most of the last ten years of her life. "That's okay, you can just make everyone jealous that I'm there with the hottest girl they've ever seen in person." She cheesed, wiggling her eyebrows as Santana stared at her for a moment and then started laughing even harder but also looked just a little shy. It reminded Brittany of how she would react back when they first really started flirting with each other.

"Well, if I am here to be your arm candy then you have to promise to stick close to me and help translate whenever anyone starts talking about that quantum yarn voodoo stuff."

Grinning, Brittany took advantage of a red light to half turn her body and offer her hand up for Santana to shake. "Deal."

"Well, okay then."

Brittany felt like dancing down the hallway as she led Santana into her very own apartment for the first time. It was like being a grown up and yet still feeling excited like a little kid at the same time. Like she was two, or maybe three different Brittany's all here together. There was also the fact that Santana was in tight black leggings and a cut off sweatshirt that hung down only part way over her ass that she tore off just as soon as the door was shut behind them with a sigh of relief.

"God, I've been smothering in this thing for like two hours now," she tossed it on top of her bag after Brittany dropped it on the couch. "But I was afraid to take it off because the last time I didn't wear a shirt over it, I got pressed up against a bar in the subway that was all sticky with...God knows what. I had to take four showers before I felt clean again."

Sticking out her tongue at the thought, Brittany pointed out the bathroom, but was still reluctant to give up this vision of Santana in her tight workout gear so easily.

"Well, the bathroom is through there, and.." she pointed down the short hallway, "bedroom, obviously." She turned toward her desk, where Santana had wandered over and picked up the Etch-a-Sketch that was laying on top of her notebook and held it up to Brittany with a questioning look on her face. "Oh, I took that into my Particle Theory class to try and explain what I was talking about to the professor. Well, that and she's really super boring when she is lecturing and I got in trouble the last time she caught me doodling in my notebook, so this way I can doodle and it still counts as classwork."

"You've already got this place wired, don't you BritBrit?" Santana asked with a grin, as her eyes roamed over Brittany's new domain.

She shrugged, feeling almost bashful for some reason. "I don't know, I mean it was really kind of scary at first. And I'm still not exactly sure how I fit in here. But it's cool. Although they did say I wasn't allowed to take Chemistry any more, or at least not until the hazmat team finishes their investigation. See, I was trying to create this special new hair dye that would change colors depending on your mood, but it didn't quite turn out right. Although my professor did say something about my experiment having possible military applications."

Santana looked a little alarmed, but one glance at her watch and she decided to bustle off into the bathroom, with an eyebrow raised at the outfit Brittany sent in with her to wear while Brittany started getting ready, too.

It had taken most of the week to decide on what they would wear. Even if they weren't technically dating right now, Santana was her date tonight and she had decided on a black and white color scheme for them. Her own dress was white, with soft, elegant folds that were set off by a white leather corset around her waist.

Find a dress for Santana had been much more fun. She was a New Yorker now, at least in theory, and Brittany picked out a black silk skirt that hung just above her knees and a matching silk blazer that would make her look professional and sophisticated, with a black leather bustier peeking out from under it that would make her look strong and sexy.

When Santana came out of the bathroom, hair still a little damp and tied up in a neat bun, dressed only in the skirt and bustier, Brittany didn't even bother to hide her stare. It earned her a teasing smirk from Santana as she came out in search of her makeup bag.

"I am warning you now," the words were thrown over her shoulder as she passed, "if any of the super elite geek squad or Daddy 'Mo Bucks assume I am a hooker, I am going to give Rachel and Kurt your address and tell them you invited them up for a night of showtunes themed Karaoke."

Brittany winced but grabbed the blazer and held it out for Santana to slide it on before carefully butting it up as far as it would go, until only a teasing glimpse of the sexy bustier could be seen.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure everyone knows who you came with." Her eyes twinkled mischievously, "I'm 'the girl who made all this possible', or at least that's what they keep saying to make me go. And you're a big rising star in New York," Santana raised an eyebrow at her description which she completely ignored as she finished the last of the buttons and straightened her lapel. "We'll be, like, the hottest couple in the room and they will all be jealous."

Santana didn't move for a few moments, staring into Brittany's face like she was trying to read her mind, to see how serious that description of them actually was. Brittany gave her what she hoped was an innocent looking smile, even though Santana was the one person who knew all too well how much of an act that really was. But the hope that was underneath it was completely real. She had missed Santana. She missed everything about them being together, and if for one night they got to pretend that things were back the way they were supposed to be, she would definitely take it.

Santana closed her eyes and took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders for a moment before meeting Brittany's expectant gaze again.

"So, it'll be just like high school all over again?" She twitched a shoulder at the words, that cocky attitude she had perfected back in Lima peeking out from wherever it had been hiding.

Brittany grinned, "It will be so much better than that." There was no one here to steal their spotlight, no lobbying to be elected by the crowd. They were going to be the queens of this party before they ever set foot in the room.

Rolling her eyes, even though the grin never left her face, Santana shrugged as she gave in without a fight. "Well, I guess you're the boss, Britt."

Santana giving in so easily sent a little thrill up Brittany's spine. It did feel a little like high school again, when she knew she could get Santana to do whatever she wanted, with teasing touches and the promise of sweet lady kisses that neither one of them could resist.

The look in Santana's eyes as they trailed down the dress Brittany was wearing, lingering in all the right places, made her think Santana was caught up in a few of those memories as well.

Brittany was sure they must have been the last to arrive at the party by the way all eyes seemed to turn to them when they walked through the doorway into the grand ballroom that had been decorated for the occasion. She frowned a little that there was only a small band playing old lady music in the corner and not even any dancing going on when she had been really looking forward to the chance to press up against Santana in a dance or two.

It was hard to be completely sure, but it felt like every eye in the room had gone to Santana by the time they started moving toward the long table that had been set up and decorated with all sorts of fancy silverware. Her arm travelled around Santana's waist in a flash of possessive instinct, and she was relieved when Santana responded by leaning a little further into her. Her lips quirked in a grin when she realized that Santana was probably a little bit nervous in this big crowd of strangers and she was happy to take advantage of her willingness to let Brittany lay claim to her in front of everyone.

It made Brittany feel all primitive in the middle of this dignified and stuffy crowd. She wondered what they would do if she just laid Santana across the table and had her for dinner while they all tried to act normal around her. The thought made her chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Santana whispered lowly and for a brief, crazy moment, Brittany thought about telling her the truth. But they weren't quite there yet.

"I'm just really happy right now," she said with a shrug.

That got her another curious look and before she could second guess herself, she leaned down to peck Santana's full, soft lips before winking at her as she kept her arm securely around her back, leading her over to begin introducing her to the intellectual elite of MIT that had mysteriously accepted Brittany as one of their own.

By the time they were seated for the first course, Santana had grown more comfortable in the role she was playing. She never ventured far from Brittany's side, but she chatted with everyone, telling them about fancy parties she had been to in New York and taking every opportunity to make sure they knew that she had been aware of how special Brittany was before any of them would have suspected it.

Her eyes glazed over a little bit when the subject of Brittany's Code came up, but then she laughed and said it was all way above her head before wrapping her arm around Brittany's waist and leaning in to her with a charming smile, "I just leave all the genius stuff to Britt."

It made her smile, even though she had to watch Santana carefully when it came to how she used the confusing silverware. She knew the Lopez's liked to throw fancy dinner parties sometimes and she would know what they were all supposed to be used for.

So even when she wasn't quite sure what she was eating, at least she seemed to be doing in it the right way. Though the thought of simply laying Santana out on the table for dessert was never far from her mind all evening long. The leather bustier pushed up her cleavage in just the right way and it made Brittany just want to dive in head first like a kid going after their first birthday cake. The messier, the better.

"Britt, you need to quit staring at my tits," Santana muttered, somewhere between the fourth and fifth course.

"Why?" She asked without thinking and then chewed her lip, hoping she hadn't pushed too hard or something.

"Well, for one, they pretty much seem to worship you here so they all apparently try to copy what you're doing. Which means that about half the table has been looking at me like I'm going to be served up as the next course and it's kind of creeping me out now." Brittany frowned, looking up and glaring at little when she noticed several sets of eyes had indeed been focused on Santana's chest as well. Leaning closer, those soft breasts brushing against Brittany's arm, Santana whispered into her ear, "And as much as I like it when you go all caveman on me, I don't think throwing me over your shoulder to go have your way with me is going to work this time."

Brittany bit back a grin, because she didn't really remember Santana complaining when they made their exit from the prom that way last year.

Of course, they were together then. What they were now was a little bit more complicated. But Santana had come all the way up here for her, and let Brittany dress her up and parade her around like they were the new power couple on the block. And she wasn't exactly complaining about Brittany's fixation on her body, only that it was becoming a group activity and they haven't been into that since sophomore year.

By the time dessert rolled around, Brittany was beginning to see a few flaws in her flawless plan to have Santana here as her date to distract everyone from her and her numbers and to get in some quality flirting at the same time. Because, aside from the rich guy who had a blonde on his arm with as much air in her head as she had in her boobs, all the nerds in nerdville were looking at Santana like they didn't realize someone like her could exist outside a video game.

In fact, when Santana answered a casual question about what she's doing in New York by saying she was thinking about acting, she sparked a in a furious debate over which character Santana should play in a live action movie by a group of graduates students that were sitting around the far end of the table. The leading candidates had names like Isabela, Lara and one of the girls kept passionately insisting that she absolutely had to be Batwoman while winking at Santana with a knowing look.

Smiling back politely, Santana reached down and gave Brittany a pinch on her thigh that made her jump and shot her a look that that said Brittany owed her bigtime for this.

Brittany responded by reaching down and slipping her fingers just under the hem of Santana's skirt, letting her know she was more than willing to pay up. She felt goosebumps on Santana's skin and couldn't miss the subtle tremors that passed through her body as she stroked further and further up her thigh.

One reaction was noticeably absent from the suddenly tense woman beside her. Santana had made no move to stop her.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Brittany looked around. There were plenty of eyes on Santana's chest. Especially now when she started breathing heavily, they were too busy following the motion to be curious about what was causing it. She propped her free hand on the table and hid her grin in her palm. As smart as they were, they could still miss something really obvious.

Her fingers skimmed up a little higher, her own adrenaline starting to surge as she felt the skin under her fingertips growing warmer and warmer. She carefully edged up so high, she could feel a damp heat coming from inside her underwear. The lean, corded muscles in Santana's legs were twitching under her bold touches and Brittany subconsciously licked her lips, her tongue dragging slightly over the salty, sensitive skin of her palm. Her eyes closed for a moment, letting herself imagine it wasn't her own skin she was tasting.

Santana's leg jerked even harder, the muscles taut and straining now. Brittany glanced up curiously to see rich, chocolate brown eyes fixed firmly on her mouth and realized that Santana had seen the movement. Now that it had stopped, she looked up to meet Brittany's eyes and her jaw clenched, because Brittany was very familiar with what Santana looked like when she was really turned on, and unless everything about her sex drive had changed in the last few months, Brittany was very sure that they were going to be doing a lot more than cuddling tonight.

Her eyes glazed over, caught for a moment in a mental montage of all the things she wanted to do. Since they were sixteen, they had never gone this long without touching each other. Despite their personal issues, other relationships, and Santana's deep denial, they excelled in finding excuses and justifications to have sex. Lots of sex. Any and every way they could think of.

It was the comforting constant in her life. Her safe place. Santana's skin next to hers felt like home. One of the reasons why she loved scissoring so much was because it let every bit of their skin touch that was possible (and Brittany had done extensive testing to be sure).

The damp heat beneath her fingers felt like it could actually burn her if she got too close, she thought back to one of her physics lectures saying that heat came when electrons started moving around really quickly. As she started tracing little patterns on the hot skin, Brittany thought her electrons were getting pretty excited by now.

Eating her dessert with only one hand was a little awkward, but she had reached the edge of Santana's lacy panties and there was no way she was giving up the careful progress she had made until she had no other choice. Besides, Santana's knees kept edging further and further apart, even as she gave an excellent performance in pretending like she gave any sort of a damn about Jasmine and Tory's theories about time travel. She seemed to be riveted to their every word, while her hips subtly rocked against Brittany's fingers, tremors racing up and down her legs.

Brittany glanced down the table where Dr. Hauptman might as well be giving a hand job to Mr. Money Can't Buy Me Brains, and it hit her that she was sitting here in a dinner at one of the most prestigious schools in the country fingering Santana under the table. She edged further, grazing her clit and trying not to giggle at the way Santana had to cover her gasp with a cough.

No one seemed to be watching them, though. Even those drooling over Santana were completely oblivious to what was happening in her lap. Maybe it was because no one here really knew them. Back at McKinley, half the room would have already clued in and either tried to stop them or sat back and enjoyed the show. She was pretty sure Puck still had that video from the haunted house hayride during their senior year.

It was even more interesting that Santana wasn't doing anything to stop her. Not even a warning glance, a muttered 'save it for later', or clamping her legs together like she did that time when she sprained Brittany's wrist on the way back from cheerleading Nationals when Sue yelled at them from the front of the bus like she had some kind of anti-sex radar or something.

The firstt time she had let Brittany go this far in a sort of public place was back when they were sharing the hotel room with all the girls on their trip to New York, but back then they had both been trying to prove something to each other. Now, she wasn't sure what they were trying to prove, other than that they were just hotter than any of these people knew how to handle. But she slipped a finger down, teasing it just inside Santana, curious now how far they were going to take this.

Surprised, or too turned on to help herself, Santana's whole body jerked hard, sliding down on Brittany's finger one moment and pulling completely back the next as she faked another coughing fit. But this time, she pulled the chair back, fanning her napkin in her flushed face and made a gasping apology that she needed to find the restroom, reaching down and tugging not so subtly on Brittany's arm as she walked past.

Brittany was disappointed for the few seconds it took her to catch on, and then with a muttered excuse that she needed to check on her date, she got up and hurried after her, ignoring the curious glances they got from the kiss ass crowd at the rich person end of the table.

She banged in the bathroom just in time to realize a few critical things. First, unlike high school, this bathroom was one person and had a lock on it.

Score!

Since Santana already had her pressed against the door, one hand reaching around to fumble with the lock, she must have noticed the same things.

She had forgotten just how good it felt to kiss Santana. Nothing could ever really substitute for the full, soft lips caressing her own in the sweetest of sweet lady kisses she could ever remember. They were both worked up, but the kisses stayed soft, somewhere between tentative in the moment and savoring that they were here like this at last.

But the sound of clinking silverware outside reminded them that they didn't have time for a leisurely make out session now, and Brittany was itching to finish what she had started outside. Ducking quickly, she wrapped her arms around Santana's waist and hoisted her up in one motion that caused a cute squeal of surprise as she sat her down on the blocky white sink that she hoped was as sturdy as it looked.

There was no time to double check as her lips went to the cleavage she had been eying all night as the dessert she was really hoping for and her hand quickly found its way back to where it had left off, one, then quickly two more fingers bypassing the lace of Santana's panties and sinking deeply inside of her as she pressed her face into Brittany's hair to try and muffle her voice.

It felt like it had been forever since they had done this, Brittany's arm burning a little with the quick, hard pace as she pumped in a steady, timeless rhythm. Her lips slid up Santana's chest, over the sensitive places on her neck before finding her lips again and swallowing down the high, whimpering cries as she sped quickly toward her release. When it came, it felt so natural, familiar, like they had never stopped doing this for even a day, as she clenched so hard Brittany couldn't have moved again if she'd wanted to.

And really, she didn't. She was happy to stay here like this for as long as they could get away with it, painting soft kisses on Santana's gasping lips, around to her cheek, her forehead, memorizing and remembering and cherishing all at once.

Finally Santana's heavy breaths turned into breathless giggles as the reality of what they had just done, and where they had done it, settled in on both of them. Then suddenly they were schoolgirls again, hiding away to get it on in the middle of a school day, just because they could.

"How long until we can get out of here?" Santana whispered against her lips, as she stole another quick kiss.

Brittany pulled back, staring at Santana's lips as she thought about the question. About how much time they had lost in the last year, how slow everything seems when you're in the middle of it and yet when it's over it seems like it went so fast.

She didn't want to waste any of the time they had, and then find a way to chat with a Brittany from a different universe only to find out she'd found a way to never break up with Santana in the first place. Or that had gotten back together and been having all the sweet lady kisses they wanted.

"Britt?"

Blinking, Brittany shook her head and looked at Santana who was watching her with a knowing smirk on her face.

"Do I want to know where you went this time, Egghead?" She knocked gently on Brittany's forehead. "Don't tell me you're thinking about the solution to some big physics problem when you were just fucking me, because I might have to be offended." With a thoughtful look, Santana cocked her head to the side and added, "Unless we can share the profits or something, because I can totally be your nerd muse if that's the case."

Brittany giggled when Santana teasingly poked her in the side and shook her head again. "I was just thinking," head down, her fingers reached out and fiddled with the hem of Santana's skirt, "I don't want to ever find out that I messed up somehow and we could have been together this whole time instead of being so far apart." Frowning, Santana reached up to smooth a lock of her hair. "I mean, what if there is another Brittany and Santana out there that figured it all out and we just messed up somewhere?"

Santana chewed her lip for a moment and then finally replied, "Well, if they did maybe you were never here at MIT getting your geek on or something," her eyelashes fluttered a little as she leaned toward Brittany with a warm, teasing grin and whispered, "and I'm sure they missed out on this night and this moment, and that had to be like top five orgasm I have ever had, so I don't think I would trade it away."

Brittany smiled despite herself and reached out to hug Santana, just because she could.

"Top three huh?"

Santana nodded with a gleam in her eyes.

"They teach us here to strive for the best," she added her expression serious, "I don't think I can settle for that."

Throwing back her head with a laugh, Santana threw her arms around Brittany's neck, "I dunno, BritBrit, that was pretty good," she pressed a kiss against Brittany's pout, "might take us awhile to top it."

"Well, you know, the key to any good experiment is to be dedicated," she kissed Santana back, "and thorough. I mean, we might have to try all sorts of new things and see what happens."

Santana's nose crinkled as she giggled, "Did I mention that all my dancing classes have made me, like, way more flexible than ever?"

Brittany's eyes were wide as her mind was swimming with possibilities.

"You know, even if our string isn't exactly perfect, we can still show up all those other Brittany and Santana's. I'm sure we're the only one whose sex tape is actually part of the curriculum at a major league university."

"Wait.. what?"

Without giving her a chance to respond, Brittany grabbed her hand and helped her straighten her clothes before pulling her toward the door.

"Britt, seriously, what does that mean?"

Ignoring the question and all the looks they were getting, she pulled Santana out and toward the doorway, trying to decide how many more rounds they could fit in this weekend.


End file.
